December 7, 1941
by Fourth in Command Cixalea Jwan
Summary: Pearl Harbor wasn't the only place bombed that day. Semi-historical. OC Philippines. Some Dark!Hetalia elements. Some brotherly fluff. No pairings. One shot.


**So here's a one-shot I've been hanging on to for a while. I don't know why I didn't post it. *shrugs* This is what I would call semi-historically accurate because I'm not all-knowing of all things historical and the internet can lie sometimes. I did do some research, but I'm not sure how correct it could all be. You have been warned. Anyway, enjoy.**

**I do not own Hetalia. Hetalia belongs to Himaruya Hidakaz.**

* * *

A youthful American paced around a back room of the White House. It was a room that was furnished with the now-antiques he bought that hadn't been removed from the room since it was rebuilt. Everyone knew better than to mess with the pieces that should be in a museum. The thing was, their owner was rather nostalgic about stuff like that. He recreated the room from memory of the one he owned in the old White House before it was burned to the ground in 1814, but he tried to forgive and forget that. Besides, he had much fresher scars that were much more impressive to show off. World War will do that to you.

How could this young man who looked no older than nineteen remember what the inside of the old White House looked like? How could a teenager have his own, personal room in the capitol building of Washington, DC? That was because he was Alfred F. Jones, or, as few knew him but was much more important as, the personification of the United States of America.

America wasn't a patient boy, but his pacing was of an anxious vigor instead of a whiny eagerness. The boy looked to the clock once more. His stomach growled as if to remind him exactly what he was fully aware of already. Even though he wasn't participating in the war, he invited one of the warring countries over to his place to eat. It wasn't much, but he still had enough recurring nightmares of trenches and bullets to know that any distraction from war was a good thing especially for a personification who felt every single attack and bore every single emotion of it. Being off the European continent, standing on soil that wasn't war-torn, might calm his guest's nerves a little.

"Calm down. You know he might not show, and that's okay. He's in a fight to the death right now," she said, curtly.

"Thanks, Minda." Alfred said, choosing to ignore the atmosphere of tension.

Luzviminda Carriedo-Jones, or Minda, was the personification of the Philippines. She was bitter about the war because she was still in the process of getting her independence from America when the war broke out. America said he wanted time for them both to transition slowly into her independence. But, just like her superior, Minda wasn't very a patient person either. She had been craving independence ever since before she broke out of the Spanish Empire, but was tossed right into the hands of another. She wanted to be free and America respected that, but now was not the time to discuss it.

She flipped her long, dark hair around and began to braid it angrily. It hadn't helped her mood that America hadn't let her go back to her land since Japan had joined the war with her so close. She didn't see what the big deal was. Japan had been a huge influence on her land and her people before even the Spanish came. She even had a decent population of his people living on her land. Japan was an important trading partner to her too. But, America was her boss. He wanted to know exactly what was going on in her country the moment it happened. What easier way than getting it from the horse's mouth? Except this horse was tied to a land thousands of miles away, and it was dinner time there. She blamed America's influence that her stomach wouldn't let her miss a meal so casually.

With a flash, two people appeared within the walls of the private room. One was Arthur Kirkland and the other Leon Wang-Kirkland. Or, as they were known to the original two in the room, the personifications of the British Empire and the British colony of Hong Kong respectively.

America couldn't help but stare at the Empire. He looked like he had aged several years in this war even though it was impossible for the personification to physically look any older than twenty-three. His face was worn, and his eyes were dulled and tired as he looked to America. It was the kind of look only a country at war could give.

Blonde America rushed over to embrace the weakened man as if to infuse his strength into him or something. It didn't work and only succeeded in a pained hiss escaping the man's lips as America cursed himself for not being more gentle. After all, he was probably bruised head to toe from all the bombings Germany had been doing on his land.

"I'm sorry."

"Yes. Now where is that food you promised?"

America smiled weakly as he was relieved England still had a little sense of humor left in him.

"The cooks will bring it in. I asked them to keep it on the stove so it would be warm when you got here. Although, I didn't know you were going to bring Hong Kong with you. I hope they made enough."

"I am, like, a pretty light eater, America. I'll be fine with any amount. Thanks though."

The Philippines was already standing off to the side, eagerly waiting until she could talk with Hong Kong. The Philippines hadn't really met Hong Kong before he was Britain's colony, but they were in the same boat as being subordinates to world powers and enjoyed each other's company.

America read her anxious look and nodded to her as she happily dragged Hong Kong off to a couch in the corner where they chattered excitedly and animatedly.

"Why did you bring Hong Kong?"

He wasn't mad. He was curious.

"The same reason you can't let Philippines out of your sight. Their our charges, but Japan's so much nearer to them than we are -continents away and all."

"I know," America said, softening his voice even though there was no way the girl could hear him from across the room. "We intercepted some of Japan's messages and decoded them. An attack is almost imminent. There's no way Japan would attack me directly so she's the most likely target. I've sent troops to protect her, but it seems my neutrality won't be lasting as long as I hoped, hu Iggy?"

Britain sighed. He understood America's wish to keep out of another war, but he couldn't help but think that if they had America on the Allies, they would have a significant advantage over the Axis.

The old Empire was thankful that the chefs finally brought the food. He didn't know how long he was going to hold up without sustenance. He felt his knees tremble as he sat down to the table. Even the energies from his numerous colonies weren't enough to keep his hands from shaking as he spooned some soup into his mouth.

The two countries and two ownerships ate and enjoyed conversation for the next several hours, long after they had finished off the food. Hong Kong and the Philippines were starting to fade as it was getting rather late where they lived. Personifications, being tied to their country, never get over jetlag. Where the islands were, it was close to two in the morning. America told them to make themselves at home and just crash on the couches. In England, it was about six in the afternoon, and where they where currently it was only one hour after noon. They weren't tired at all, and it wasn't like England was eager to return to his war-ravaged country.

All the while the older nations discussed the finer points of tea vs coffee, England sighed as he watched America look over his shoulder toward his sleeping charge on the couch for the millionth time.

"You must really be worried for her."

America snapped back around and scratched the back of his head.

"The government isn't as much as I am. I only have a few colonies. I think of her like a daughter even though my people probably couldn't even point her out on a map. Heh heh." His chuckle turned into a sigh. "That doesn't change anything about how I feel about her."

"If Japan attacks her, will you enter the war?"

America looked to the floor. This question must have crossed his mind earlier.

"_I'd_ want to, but that's not up to me, is it? Of course I want to protect what is mine. I promised her independence though. She won't be mine for long, but…"

England smiled. He wondered if he'd ever have the pleasure of seeing that concerned, parental look on America's face. The face England use to use when talking about America back when he was a colony. His little America grew up, and now was trying to raise his own children.

"So how are_ you_ holding up?" America slapped on a smile. "Russia's helping you now, right? Not a very smart move on Germany's part, if you ask me."

"I've been better. The blitz has practically stopped. France is still…. Let's just say he's not doing well."

England, as much as he had his problems with the frog, felt a very real pity for him. England was on an island with a mote of ocean surrounding him. Air raids were almost the only way Germany could attack him. France, however, shared a border with both Germany and Italy. Switzerland was neutral and Spain was not technically on either side but leaned more toward the Axis. France was utterly obliterated. Its personification was only held together by his ligaments and tendons. England shuttered at the thoughts.

"I tried to convince my boss to send you guys as much aid as possible, but it's hard to remain neutral when I'm so obviously picking favorites," America said.

"Well, it's not like you would join the _Axis_ if you were pulled in," the green-eyed nation said offhandedly. "They know that already."

"Let's hope I-I, let's…hope-"

"America?" Britain's large eyebrows furrowed at the sudden paleness of the young country.

"Ungh!" The blue-eyed country's chest started to spasm. His breaths became erratic and uncontrolled. He was having a panic attack.

"America! What's wrong!"

"Ja-pan is a-ttack-ing me-e!" he managed to squeak through, in between gasps.

"What?!" Britain couldn't believe what was happening. "He wouldn't _dare_! I thought…" He looked toward the Philippines who just woke up after hearing the commotion.

America fell to the ground, and she rushed over.

Her owner looked relieved but confused as to why she wasn't in pain. That could only mean one thing. Japan wasn't attacking any of the closer territories of America. He was attacking…

"Ha-wai-i! Aagh!"

He was breathing a mile a minute and his eyes were wide and distant and full of fear.

"America! Stay with us!"

"_He's dying_?!" Philippines looked at England, horrified.

"No. He can't possibly die just by a raid. If that was possible I would be dead a thousand times over. No. I'm trying to keep him from focusing too hard on the attack and concentrate his presence away from it. It will hurt less."

"What?"

"You know how you can travel in your land without even needing to be physically there? Well, he's mentally in Hawaii right now. He's making the pain worse on himself by doing that." He returned to trying to shake America back to DC.

"Slow your breathing. You're going to give yourself a heart attack." England was stern, but not mean. Just like a parent. "That's it, lad. Come back to us. Philippines is here, remember?"

"Yeah. I'm-I'm right here," she said, holding America's hand that he gladly squeezed back –almost crushing her. If it weren't for having a small part of America's strength, she would have cried out.

She wasn't naïve. She knew she was the more logical choice to attack. She was weaker, smaller, closer to Japan, and not a complete part of the United States. She was even bugging him day after day for her independence for crying out loud! Why was Japan attacking Hawaii? Hawaii was a full-fledged part of America.

Everyone in the room knew what this meant. This meant neutrality had ended. This meant the Allies had a new member. This meant America was at war.

Slowly America calmed. The raid must have ended. Tears still fell from his eyes as he tried to get a grip on what just happened.

"England, I'm sorry! I never knew new war hurt that much! I, well, I knew that it had to hurt a lot but that was horrible!"

The bushy browed nation tilted his head to the side.

"What are you on about, lad?"

"The last war, my _troops_ just got hurt. We never fought on my _land_. My civilian citizens were never murdered. No innocents were killed. The last time, the last time I fought on my own soil was the Civil War, and that was against myself without _bombs _or_ planes_! The last time I fought someone else on my own land was against Mexico to get Texas a _hundred years ago_! I guess I forgot what real war feels like, huh?" he tried to smile, but it turned into a wince the more he was bombarded by flashbacks which caused more tears to crease in his eyes.

* * *

Their simple dinner had become a war strategy session. The two powers were busy discussing what needed to be done, contacting the right people, and getting America's declaration of war passed through the government as fast as possible. They were only hindered once about an hour later when a second strike hit Hawaii. America recovered faster, not because it was any less devastating, but because this time he was angry instead of scared. It drove him back to the vicious, focused, mono-goaled side Britain was unfortunate to be on the receiving end of a couple times. Except, America was now unarguably a superpower. There was no telling what he would do. And, as twisted as it was when he saw America in his destroyer-mode, Britain could already feel the shock turn to hope in his people's minds as the news of the bombings reached the British Isles. They saw victory as certain now. America would have to go to war, and it was clear he was back with the Allies.

They barely touched the food provided for dinner. They were on a mission, and the hours flew by. Nothing could jolt them out of this focused state until a voice cut above the bustling White House war room.

"Britain! It's Hong Kong!" Philippines cried.

Both Britain and America rushed after the territory as she led them back to the guestroom where Hong Kong was twitching on the ground.

"Hong Kong!" Britain gasped, scooping the small teen up.

"Does he have any defenses?"

"Of course, idiot! I wouldn't leave him undefended! In fact, Canada insisted on helping him with infantries of his soldiers. I asked India to send troops, and I have many Britons there too."

However, Britain wasn't sure it would be enough. Hong Kong would be strategically hard to hold on to even with several other crown colonies fairly close by. He wasn't going to say that in front of Hong Kong though. He needed him to have hope. While raids couldn't possibly kill Britain or America, Hong Kong was so small. There was no telling how much the bombings would affect him.

He remained like that, stroking his charge's hair comfortingly, all the while trying to keep him focused on something other than the attacks. Hong Kong was definitely more mentally trained than America. He was originally China's little brother after all. He didn't grin, but he bared it. Strong little guy.

It was clear though that America's and Hong Kong's attacks were different. Hawaii was just bombed. Hong Kong was being invaded.

It seemed just when Hong Kong seemed to reach a lull in the battle, the Philippines started the same pattern.

America reacted with a much less cool head than the more experienced Britain. He had put troops in the Philippines. However, he only had three significant territories in contrast to Britain's dozens. He was what Britain would describe as a first-time mother about this.

It was also clear that this was an invasion like Hong Kong's. Britain had to do most of the comforting while America ranted and cursed up a storm with swears that Britain didn't know if he felt more like laughing at or slapping himself for raising him so wrong.

"He's gonna pay for this! Japan has _no idea_! I-I don't even know _what_ I'll do! He and his Axis _are going down_! He'll wish he never stepped f_oot_ off those stupid islands of his! I try to get him out of isolation, and you," he pointed to Britain, "teach him how to build a navy and what does he do? Hu? _What does he do_? Oh, I'll show him!"

America clutched his own chest in tandem of Philippines crying out at a particularly painful attack. Because the Philippines were technically part of America, he felt her pain. It was much less severe, but he could still feel it. It was a phantom pain that Britain had learned to deal with almost to the point of being able to ignore it completely with his numerous colonies.

However, the reverse was not necessarily true. One of the few benefits of being a colony was that the dominant country could act as a sort of buffer between their own pain and the colony's pain. For example, America could prevent the Philippines from feeling Hawaii's bombings just as Britain could keep Hong Kong from feeling the pains of the blitz. It wasn't something they had to do, but it was something they willingly bore for the sake of their satellite charges –the ones they considered their children.

* * *

The Philippines had to be carried into Japan's house. She could feel the torment Japan's soldiers were putting her people through. She knew what war felt like. She'd been in enough battles for her independence to know the pain. But, what Japan was doing was not just war. Her citizens were dying in droves and being tortured in ways she hadn't seen before. She had been flickering in and out of consciousness recently with the battles, but, now that she had been completely overrun, she was conscious but extremely sick.

The moment she entered the house, she was released to fall to the tatami flooring. However, she was caught by someone who only softened the fall seeing as he himself was ill and weakened.

She looked up into the dark eyes of Hong Kong. She didn't know whether to smile or cry. Of course she did not want to see him here, but she was grateful for the familiar face.

"Hong Kong, are you…?"

The boy's eyes widened as he hurriedly covered her mouth and shook his head.

She heard a voice call out in a strange language, and Hong Kong stiffened. After a moment of silence, the colony turned back to her and whispered as softly as he could, "Don't speak English."

"Why…?"

He hurried to cover her mouth once again, but the voice called out in that foreign tongue that she now recognized as Japanese.

From around the corner stepped a man in a white uniform with dark, trimmed hair and enveloping brown eyes.

Hong Kong tried his best to lift Philippines up as he stood to face the man while he uttered in a language that wasn't English but wasn't Japanese. She, digging deep into her citizens' knowledge, recognized it as Cantonese.

Japan gritted his teeth before he replied, pointing further into the house. He must have understood Hong Kong, but it seemed like he didn't like the fact he did.

Hong Kong led helped Philippines to a room in the back of the house. He slid the door shut behind them and rushed over to her, clearly eager to hear from her. Although, he still kept his voice hushed.

"Tell me what's going on out there. Japan hasn't let me out of this house since he captured me and took me here. Please tell me the Allies are winning!" His eyes were pleading.

Philippines knew why he sounded so desperate. After having only the enemy to be around and feeling only the suffering of his people, he must think that the situation is hopeless. He just wanted that shred of optimism to hold on to, but she couldn't lie to him. She couldn't bring herself to give anyone hope over the suffering she felt in her people.

"I'm not sure."

"I understand," he said sadly.

"Why can't I speak English? Does Japan not understand…?"

"No, he hates English because it reminds him of our family members. He thinks they think they're superior to him. So he plans to make everything Japanese superior. He's forcing me to learn his language, and he'll probably make you do the same."

"But how could he understand you earlier? You weren't speaking Japanese to him."

"He understands me because he was raised by Teacher China too. He surely understands English as well; he just wants Japanese to be the dominant language."

"But I only know rudimentary Japanese."

"He won't be satisfied until you know Japanese, but English is the worst. I would suggest speaking in Tagalog if in doubt instead of Spanish though. He's not Europe's biggest fan."

"But he's allied with…"

"Yes, but they're his _allies_. Japan has an inferiority complex, but they must think he's not worse than them if they choose to ally with him. That's why he likes them. The rest of Europe, however, he doesn't have a very high opinion of. Especially my brother."

"Yeah. Hopefully they will beat him."

"I don't mean to be rude, but why are you still loyal to America? You could have used this opportunity to be rid of him."

"And, what? Be a colony of Japan? Not on my life! Not after what he's doing to my people! Besides, America promised me my independence, and as sure I as breathe I will hold him to that promise! I _will_ be free. And that's certainly not going to happen on Japan's watch."

* * *

America sat at his desk with his head in his hands. They lost the Philippines. It was just impossible to hold on to them. Japan's troops completely overwhelmed them.

He'd fought Spain for Minda and even fought against her afterward. Many of their people, American and Filipino, died during those conflicts. It was extremely painful for both of them. But, there they were again: their soldiers fighting and dying side by side. America promised he would take care of her, but he failed. He failed right after he started to gain her trust. He failed –_again_.

America had never lost colonies before. Heck, everything associated with having colonies was relatively new to him. However, each moment seemed to make him feel more and more empathy for Britain back around 1776. He couldn't imagine what it was like for the ruling empire when colony tried to break free. The Philippines put up a big fight herself, but she calmed after a while. Somehow he couldn't decide if his own decision to become independent would have been painful to Britain or not. (At the time, he sometimes hoped it was.) He never asked him.

Losing the Philippines was eerie in the fact that it wasn't painful at all. The physical battles for her hurt, but control going from him to Japan didn't. He expected to feel this ripping or tearing inside of him, but that never happened. He just couldn't sense her anymore. He sensed his troops there of course. The ones dying painfully in the death march. But he couldn't sense any of _her_ –troops, civilians, and personification alike. It was like they were just… gone. In a weird way, it was more painful.

He remembered back in the late 1800's when he finally kicked Spain out of her land. The other imperial countries were circling her islands like sharks waiting to pounce on a potential new colony. America, of course, would have none of that. He was the one that fought the battle! Hello? If anyone was gonna get a new colony that day, it was him! Germany was especially being a prick, but America set him straight during a meeting with him regarding the event.

He had effectively broken the Spanish Empire through the Spanish-American War, and he'd also gains his first colonies (as well as Hawaii). He'd never set that as his intention, but Spain was being a jerk to Cuba and needed to stop. Everything just kinda escalated from that. Puerto Rico and Guam were free while the Philippines cost him twenty million dollars.

When America and Minda fought the Spanish together, she didn't mind having him around. But, when Minda found out she had been denied her independence and sold to the guy who was supposed to be helping her, she snapped.

When he found Minda, she was, for a lack of a better metaphor, off her rocker. War will do that to you, especially if you were young. She only looked about thirteen or so if she were human back then. She was sassy and seemed as fluent in profanity as South Italy as well as utterly obsessed with being independent. Except, that wasn't going to happen. Not yet.

She hated his guts. She threw, what was it?, a flower vase at his head. She did _not_ want to be a colony again.

"_You gave Cuba independence! Why not ME?!"_

She fought and clawed during the war between them that followed. It was much more bloody and much more gruesome than the war that just ended the Spanish Empire. She didn't fail to mention over and over that he was treating her like Britain treated him. He told her it was different, but he knew it was a lie. Manifest Destiny clouded his mind many times, but, even after the war was over, it was the Depression that finally made him agree to her independence, _eventual_ independence.

America drug a finger quickly under his eye to wipe away any moisture that might have collected there on some completely random chance.

She was going to have a birthday.

She was going to have her first birthday, and he was gonna be there –smiling his too-big smile and crying happy tears. He'd invite all the countries over and have France or someone make the biggest cake ever! Streamers and even those stupid, pointy hat things. She would get all dressed up and everyone would see how pretty she was, how beautiful her smile was. Everyone would congratulate her and shake her hand. And he…he couldn't have been more proud.

"What kind of 'father' am I if I wasn't able to protect my kid long enough to have her first birthday?" America slammed his hand on the desk. He then crumpled it into a fist.

Japan had stolen from him. Japan had taken away his ability to know if she was alright. Of course it would have been easy to guess that she wasn't alright. This was war. But, he wanted to know. He wanted to know how he could help her. He wanted to know if what he was doing was helping her at all –what should he do next? He was grasping at straws here. And he hated it.

"Should I have just given you your independence right away? Would you have been happier? Would Japan have left you alone?"

But, he probably knew the answer to that last bit. Japan would have likely invaded earlier and she would probably be in the same situation she was now. Being America's charge was probably the only reason she was left alone as long as she had. But would she have been happier if he hadn't been around? Did he cause more harm than good? He didn't know.

He could feel the migraine beating at the side of his skull. He wished he could go into his happy world. The one he lived in during peacetime, the one that made everyone assume he was a dense idiot. He was only serious when he had to be. It was the only way he could stand it.

As he gained influence in the world, he gained criticism and negative opinion. The only way to stay sane was to not notice it. Ignorance being bliss and all that. Only when the situation called for it did America choose to notice things. Better to live in a fake, happy world than a realistic, sad world. He experimented on this technique early in his life, but he made it his life philosophy after the Depression.

"I don't like this. I don't like this at all."

When nothing responded except the ticking of the wall clock, he decided this talking-to-no-one thing wasn't gonna work.

He ran a hand through his hair and thought about someone to vent to. He was a very think-out-loud type of person. It helped him sort out his problems. But, he didn't want to sound whiny. He only just entered the war. Britain had been doing this for years already with far more damage. He lost Hong Kong four months ago and his other Asian colonies were being invaded. No, he probably shouldn't vent to Britain.

Russia was scary. He didn't like the way the creep always smiled despite the fact his people were being absolutely slaughtered day after day. At first he admired the guy for being strong, but he learned that it had to be something other than strength. America could only assume it was his way of coping by going to his version of a delusional happy place -or it was simply insanity. Either way, he wasn't exactly eager to strike up a conversation with the guy.

He decided to talk to Canada. Even though Canada was still a dominion of Britain and wouldn't understand the responsibilities of having colonies, Canada would always be his twin brother. Even when they fought each other, even when they were at peace. They would always be brothers.

He closed his eyes and, in a flash, appeared in Canada's capitol. It was a special personification-ability to be able to teleport themselves into the houses or capitols of another country's personification.

The place was bustling with activity. People running around with notepads tucked under their arms and paper clips flying all over the place. Craziness was expected to happen during wartime, but, wartime being one of the few times America actually read the atmosphere, he knew it wasn't just the usual business.

America was nearly run over because he suddenly appeared. He dodged out of the way of running secretaries and politicians all the while scanning for his brother amongst the madness. The blue-eyed personification snapped his fingers as he figured out where his brother must be.

Matthew Williams hated politics with a passion. Anything that divided people from each other or stirred up dissention, he resented. He was a grown up dominion though. He would buck up and face it when he needed to, but, if at all possible, he would avoid a scene like this like the plague.

Worming his way through the bustle, the cowlicked nation moved deeper into the building and farther away from the crowd. As he moved down the halls, he heard the noise become softer. He thought about knocking lightly on the door to his twin's room, but that just wasn't America's style. He threw open the door and barged in loudly proclaiming that, "The hero has arrived!"

Canada fell out of his bed and almost strangled himself with the sheets. Of course he was sleeping. He groaned as he picked himself up and grabbed his glasses off the nightstand –not that he needed to see to know who just ruined his REM cycle.

"What's…going on, eh?" he asked, sleepily.

"Oh, nothing. You know. We're just in world war again. Fighting tooth and nail against the Axis. The usual."

Canada clearly wasn't awake enough to process sarcasm yet. Or maybe he was still just a tiny bit peeved at his Southern brother for interrupting his nap.

"What are you doing here? Did you need something? You should probably just go and ask the Prime Minister…"

"No, bro! I just came to talk. I can still have a chat with my twin, right?"

"Sure. Just keep it down. I have a headache."

"What's up, dude? I couldn't help but notice that the place seems busier than usual."

"Oh, they are having a referendum about the conscription policy. I just don't want it to be like when the same thing happened in World War I. That was horrible."

"Um, the what?"

Canada sighed while rubbing the side of his head.

"Long story short: the English-speakers want conscription into the war, the French-speakers don't. The referendum isn't helping tensions."

America sighed as he sat down on the bed next to his twin. He felt bad that Canada of all people had to deal with crap like this. He had two sides constantly trying to tear him apart for as long as he could remember. America sympathized with him, remembering the Civil War, except Canada's was still ongoing. There was no law anyone could pass that said everyone had to be happy and get along or else.

America saw his plans to vent go down the metaphorical toilet. He couldn't, with a clean conscience, vent to Canada who was clearly suffering on both the war and the home front.

"Canada, why did he even make you enter the war? You don't deserve to be suffering like this."

Canada stiffened sharply.

"_Britain_ didn't make me do anything! I declared war on the Axis on my own accord! I did! Me! _Canada_! I may still be a part of the Empire, but he trusts me to look after me! I don't need anyone to babysit me!" Canada began to rant.

America was taken aback but wasn't surprised. Of course his bro was a little bitter that Britain thought someone needed to take care of him. Although, America was still haunted by Britain's words he had uttered to him that bleak day last August.

"_If Europe falls, if _I _fall, I want you to take control of Canada's military for me. You can do that, can't you, lad?"_

"_Don't say that, Britain! Europe won't fall! Besides, I'm not even in the war. If you fall and I take over Canada's troops, that will mean a declaration of war on the Axis."_

_Britain, even with his black eye, shined his glossy, green iris at him. He knew what it meant and meant exactly that._

"_Canada's practically independent, but he'll need you. He'll need his brother if I fall. Can I trust you to take care of him?"_

America got nervous whenever Canada got like this, but his northern bro was in a lot of pain right now. Not to mention his nationalist population was probably being extremely vocal in light of recent events.

"And I'm glad for that, bro. I am. I just think you sometimes forget that we're separated by an ocean from them." America's isolationist population had some residual voice left, but the majority of his citizens were ready for war.

"That didn't stop you from getting involved in the first World War," Canada said. "Nor did it stop Japan a few months ago."

America nodded slowly as Canada continued.  
"Besides," he calmed, "it is my duty to help Britain. Not my obligation, but my self-endowed duty. I can feel it in the core of my people. They want this too. And I'm not doing this just for the Empire, but for him. He will always be my father. I-I mean, brother."

The cowlicked twin was awed at how simple Canada made this. Sure the curled twin didn't like politics, but you could bet your bottom dollar that he would go to war for those he deemed his family.

America smiled and put his arm around his brother.

"I knew I always liked you."

"Except for that little _war_ we had that one time, eh?"

"Hey! Don't try to ruin the brother-bonding moment, dude!"

America then wrapped his little brother into a half-nelson and gave him a noogie on the head.

"Hey! Headache! Remember, eh?"

"Oh, sorry!"

America released his brother who smiled weakly at him with his violet eyes.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed that.**  
**My roommate grew up in the Philippines so I asked her some stuff, but not a lot. Mostly about the Filipino view of America. Still, I can't guarantee I portrayed that right or not.**  
**I chose the Philippines' name because the name is a Filipino girl's name that is the combination of the names of the three main island groups of the Philippines: Luzon, Visayas, and Mindanao. Thus, Luzviminda.**

**Review or fav if you so desire. This is a one-shot so there will not be any more chapters (even if you add it to your alert). Anyway, take it or leave it, it was fun to write.**


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